By Randy Fiedler
If you contacted Baylor alumni who graduated during the past 60 years and asked them to come up with a list of their most memorable Baylor professors, there’s no doubt that the name “Ann Miller” would be included in many of those rankings –– and topping quite a few of them.
Professor Miller’s Baylor pedigree couldn’t have been more solid. After growing up in Dallas, she came to Baylor and studied English under the legendary Dr. A.J. Armstrong, eventually serving as his assistant. She went on to earn a BA in English from Baylor in 1949 –– one of two students to earn an honors degree that year. Miller then pursued advanced studies at the University of Texas under the tutelage of the celebrated Harry Ransom and returned to Baylor to earn an MA degree in English in 1951.
One of most prominent professors in Baylor’s English department at the time, Dr. Charles G. Smith, said Miller was one of the three most outstanding students he had had in his Baylor career.
After teaching some classes at Baylor during the 1950s, Miller joined the English faculty full-time in 1961, and that’s when her classroom magic began truly to flourish. Students marveled at the way Miller would leave her audiences spellbound, weaving in lines of poetry and prose from across the centuries to punctuate her incisive explorations of the world’s greatest authors.
Her enthusiasm for literature and the strong passion for life that permeated Miller’s classroom turned many undergraduates into lifelong lovers of the power of words, short stories and poems. An impressive number of her students have given Miller credit for their decision to follow in her footsteps and become English professors themselves.
Miller was, additionally, a fine poet. She wrote admiring tributes to Baylor legends (including Dr. Armstrong and Dr. Smith). One stanza in her poem “Legacy” in Smith’s memory reads: “We saw the road would open into days / without your voice to teach us Spenser’s song. / And clocks would stop. For time would be all wrong / to dare a step without your steady grace.”
Miller and her husband, Dr. Robert T. Miller, who served as chairman of Baylor’s political science department until his death in 1996, provided much “steady grace” themselves –– sponsoring many campus functions and taking enjoyment in entertaining students in their home. Her Baylor ties were legion, and were made even stronger by the fact that she was the sister of celebrated history professor Dr. James W. Vardaman (see related story in this issue).
In 1982 when Baylor decided to create the distinction of Master Teacher, Miller was one of the first two professors chosen to receive the title, sharing the honors with beloved history professor Robert Reid. She was named Outstanding Professor by Mortar Board 12 times, and her teaching received acclaim from the student body, Student Congress and alumni groups repeatedly during her time at Baylor.
In 2003, Baylor recognized Miller with an honorary Doctor of Humane Letters degree. Her degree citation read, in part, “Having now been a professor herself in the English department for over 40 years, Professor Miller continues to be pronounced ‘brilliant’ as she brings literature to life for and in her students. Her abilities to challenge, encourage, inspire and exhort students to reach beyond themselves are legendary.”
After a long battle with cancer, Ann Miller died on Aug. 12, 2006, at age 80. Following her death, a stained glass window in Armstrong Browning Library, known as the Vallombrosa Window, was provided by anonymous donors in her honor.
In a tribute printed in the Dallas Morning News, former Baylor College of Arts & Sciences Dean Wallace Daniel said, “The capacity to inspire, to connect with others, to challenge dogma and to uplift aspirations are qualities that are ingrained in teaching. While the current emphasis on technology in teaching and learning offers many advantages, Ann Miller’s example causes us to reaffirm the central importance of the teacher.”
Forever indebted to Ann Miller and so very grateful that I share this appreciation of her with my brother Bob Griffith.
The. Best. Ever.
I remember Ann Miller fondly and enjoyed the class I had under her. She made poetry come alive and was a true credit to Baylor.
Ann Miller seized life by the throat and did nothing by half measures. She’s been gone for more than 10 years and not a week goes by that I don’t remember something she said or did in the classroom or out of it–and miss her.